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CHAPTER X. LIFE IN THE CITIES.

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the great cities of japan afford remarkable opportunities for seeing the life of the common people, for the little houses and shops, with their open fronts, reveal the penetralia in a way not known in our more secluded homes. the employment of the merchant being formerly the lowest of respectable callings, one does not find even yet in japan many great stores or a very high standard of business morality, for the business of the country was left in the hands of those who were too stupid or too unambitious to raise themselves above that social class. hence english and american merchants, who only see japan from the business side, continually speak of the japanese as dishonest, tricky, and altogether unreliable, and greatly prefer to deal with the chinese, who have much of the business virtue that is characteristic of the english as a nation. only within a[263] few years have the samurai, or indeed any one who was capable of figuring in any higher occupation in life, been willing to adopt the calling of the merchant; but many of the abler japanese of to-day have begun to see that trade is one of the most important factors of a nation's well-being, and that the business of buying and selling, if wisely and honestly done, is an employment that nobody need be ashamed to enter. there are in japan a few great merchants whose word may be trusted, and whose obligations will be fulfilled with absolute honesty; but a large part of the buying and selling is still in the hands of mercantile freebooters, who will take an advantage wherever it is possible to get one, in whose morality honesty has no place, and who have not yet discovered the efficacy of that virtue simply as a matter of policy. their trade, conducted in a small way upon small means, is more of the nature of a game, in which one person is the winner and the other the loser, than a fair exchange, in which both parties obtain what they want. it is the medi?val, not the modern idea of business, that is still held among japanese merchants. with[264] them, trade is a warfare between buyer and seller, in which every man must take all possible advantage for himself, and it is the lookout of the other party if he is cheated.

in tokyo, the greatest and most modernized of the cities of the empire, the shops are not the large city stores that one sees in european and american cities, but little open-fronted rooms, on the edge of which one sits to make one's purchases, while the proprietor smiles and bows and dickers; setting his price by the style of his customer's dress, or her apparent ignorance of the value of the desired article. some few large dry-goods stores there are, where prices are set and dickering is unnecessary;[*] and in the kwankoba, or bazaars, one may buy almost anything needed by japanese of all classes, from house furnishings to foreign hats, at prices plainly marked upon them, and from which there is no variation. but one's impression of the state of trade in japan is, that it is still in a very primitive and undeveloped condition, and is surprisingly behind the other parts of japanese civilization.

the shopping of the ladies of the large[265] yashikis and of wealthy families is done mostly in the home; for all the stores are willing at any time, on receiving an order, to send up a clerk with a bale of crêpes, silks, and cottons tied to his back, and frequently towering high above his head as he walks, making him look like the proverbial ant with a grain of wheat. he sets his great bundle carefully down on the floor, opens the enormous furushiki, or bundle handkerchief, in which it is enveloped, and takes out roll after roll of silk or chintz, neatly done up in paper or yellow cotton. with infinite patience, he waits while the merits of each piece are examined and discussed, and if none of his stock proves satisfactory, he is willing to come again with a new set of wares, knowing that in the end purchases will be made sufficient to cover all his trouble.

the less aristocratic people are content to go to the stores themselves; and the business streets of a japanese city, such as the ginza in tokyo, are full of women, young and old, as well as merry children, who enjoy the life and bustle of the stores. like all things else in japan, shopping takes plenty of time. at mitsui's, the[266] largest silk store in tokyo, one will see crowds of clerks sitting upon the matted floors, each with his soroban, or adding machine, by his side; and innumerable small boys, who rush to and fro, carrying armfuls of fabrics to the different clerks, or picking up the same fabrics after the customer who has called for them has departed. the store appears, to the foreign eye, to be simply a roofed and matted platform upon which both clerks and customers sit. this platform is screened from the street by dark blue cotton curtains or awnings hung from the low projecting eaves of the heavy roof. as the customers take their seats, either on the edge of the platform, or, if they have come on an extended shopping bout, upon the straw mat of the platform itself, a small boy appears with tea for the party; an obsequious clerk greets them with the customary salutations of welcome, pushes the charcoal brazier toward them, that they may smoke, or warm their hands, before proceeding to business, and then waits expectantly for the name of the goods that his customers desire to see. when this is given, the work begins; the little boys are summoned,[267] and are soon sent off to the great fire-proof warehouse, which stands with heavy doors thrown open, on the other side of the platform, away from the street. through the doorway one can see endless piles of costly stuffs stored safely away, and from these piles the boys select the required fabric, loading themselves down with them so that they can barely stagger under the weights that they carry. as the right goods are not always brought the first time, and as, moreover, there is an endless variety in the colors and patterns in even one kind of silk, there is always plenty of time for watching the busy scene,—for sipping tea, or smoking a few whiffs from the tiny pipes that so many japanese, both men and women, carry always with them. when the purchase is at last made, there is still some time to be spent by the customer in waiting until the clerk has made an abstruse calculation upon his soroban, the transaction has been entered in the books of the firm, and a long bill has been written and stamped, and handed to her with the bundle. during her stay in the store, the foreign customer, making her first visit to the place, is frequently startled by[268] loud shouts from the whole staff of clerks and small boys,—outcries so sudden, so simultaneous, and so stentorian, that she cannot rid herself of the idea that something terrible is happening every time that they occur. she soon learns, however, that these manifestations of energy are but the way in which the japanese merchant speeds the departing purchaser, and that the apparently inarticulate shouts are but the formal phrase, "thanks for your continued favors," which is repeated in a loud tone by every employee in the store whenever a customer departs. when she herself is at last ready to leave, a chorus of yells arises, this time for her benefit; and as she skips into the jinrikisha and is whirled away, she hears continued the busy hum of voices, the clattering of sorobans, the thumping of the bare feet of the heavily laden boys, and the loud shouts of thanks with which departing guests are honored.

there is less pomp and circumstance about the smaller stores, for all the goods are within easy reach, and the shops for household utensils and chinaware seem to have nearly the whole stock in trade piled up in front, or even in the street itself.[269] many such little places are the homes of the people who keep them. and at the back are rooms, which serve for dwelling rooms, opening upon well-kept gardens. the whole work of the store is often attended to by the proprietor, assisted by his wife and family, and perhaps one or two apprentices. each of the workers, in turn, takes an occasional holiday, for there is no day in the japanese calendar when the shops are all closed; and even new year's day, the great festival of the year, finds most of the stores open. yet the dwellers in these little homes, living almost in the street, and in the midst of the bustle and crowd and dust of tokyo, have still time to enjoy their holidays and their little gardens, and have more pleasure and less hard work than those under similar circumstances in our own country.

the stranger visiting any of the great japanese cities is surprised by the lack of large stores and manufactories, and often wonders where the beautiful lacquer work and porcelains are made, and where the gay silks and crêpes are woven. there are no large establishments where such things are turned out by wholesale. the[270] delicate vases, the bronzes, and the silks are often made in humblest homes, the work of one or two laborers with rudest tools. there are no great manufactories to be seen, and the bane of so many cities, the polluting factory smoke, never rises over the cities of japan. the hard, confining factory life, with its never-ceasing roar of machinery, bewildering the minds and intellects of the men who come under its deadening influences, until they become scarcely more than machines themselves, is a thing as yet almost unknown in japan. the life of the jinrikisha man even, hard and comfortless as it may seem to run all day like a horse through the crowded city streets, is one that keeps him in the fresh air, under the open sky, and quickens his powers both of body and mind. to the poor in japanese cities is never denied the fresh air and sunshine, green trees and grass; and the beautiful parks and gardens are found everywhere, for the enjoyment of even the meanest and lowest.

on certain days in the month, in different sections of the city, are held night festivals near temples, and many shopkeepers take the opportunity to erect temporary[271] booths, in which they so arrange their wares as to tempt the passers-by as they go to and fro. very often there is a magnificent display of young trees, potted plants, and flowers, brought in from the country and ranged on both sides of the street. here the gardeners make lively sales, as the displays are often fine in themselves, and show to a special advantage in the flaring torchlight. the eager venders, who do all they can to call the attention of the crowd to their wares, make many good bargains. the purchase requires skill on both sides, for flower men are proverbial in their high charges, asking often five and ten times the real value of a plant, but coming down in price almost immediately on remonstrance. you ask the price of a dwarf wistaria growing in a pot. the man answers at once, "two dollars." "two dollars!" you answer in surprise, "it is not worth more than thirty or forty cents." "seventy-five, then," he will respond; and thus the buyer and seller approach nearer in price, until the bargain is struck somewhere near the first price offered. price another plant and there would be the same process to go over[272] again; but as the evening passes, prices go lower and lower, for the distances that the plants have been brought are great, and the labor of loading up and carrying back the heavy pots is a weary one, and when the last customer has departed the merchants must work late into the night to get their wares safely home again.

but beside the flower shows, there are long rows of booths, which, with the many visitors who throng the streets, make a gay and lively scene. so dense is the crowd that it is with difficulty one can push through on foot or in jinrikisha. the darkness is illuminated by torches, whose weird flames flare and smoke in the wind, and shine down upon the little sheds which line both sides of the road, and contain so tempting a display of cheap toys and trinkets that not only the children, but their elders, are attracted by them. some of the booths are devoted to dolls; others to toys of various kinds; still others to birds in cages, goldfish in globes, queer chirping insects in wicker baskets, pretty ornaments for the hair, fans, candies, and cakes of all sorts, roasted beans and peanuts, and other things too numerous to[273] mention. the long line of stalls ends with booths, or tents, in which shows of dancing, jugglery, educated animals, and monstrosities, natural or artificial, may be seen for the moderate admission fee of two sen. each of these shows is well advertised by the beating of drums, by the shouting of doorkeepers, by wonderful pictures on the outside to entice the passer-by, or even by an occasional brief lifting of the curtains which veil the scene from the crowd without, just long enough to afford a tantalizing glimpse of the wonders within. great is the fascination to the children in all these things, and the little feet are never weary until the last booth is passed, and the quiet of neighboring streets, lighted only by wandering lanterns, strikes the home-returning party by its contrast with the light and noise of the festival. the supposed object of the expedition, the visit to the temple, has occupied but a small share of time and attention, and the little hands are filled with the amusing toys and trifles bought, and the little minds with the merry sights seen. nor are those who remain at home forgotten, but the pleasure-seekers who visit the[274] fair carry away with them little gifts for each member of the family, and the o miagé, or present given on the return, is a regular institution of japanese home life.[42]

by ten o'clock, when the crowds have dispersed and the purchasers have all gone home and gone to bed, the busy booth-keepers take down their stalls, pack up their wares, and disappear, leaving no trace of the night's gayeties to greet the morning sun.

beside these evening shows, which occur monthly or oftener, there are also great festivals of the various gods, some celebrated annually, others at intervals of some years. these matsuri last for several days, and during that time the quarter of the city in which they occur seems entirely given over to festivity. the streets are gayly decorated with flags, and bright lanterns—all alike in design and color—are hung in rows from the low eaves of the houses. young bamboo-trees set along the street, and decorated with bits of bright-colored tissue paper, are a frequent and effective [275]accompaniment of these festivals, and here and there throughout the district are set up high stands, on the tops of which musicians with squeaky flutes, and drums of varying calibre, keep up a din more festive than harmonious. it takes a day or two for the rejoicings to get fully under way, but by the second or third day the fun is at its height, and the streets are thronged with merrymakers. a great deal of labor and strength, as well as ingenuity, is spent in the construction of enormous floats, or dashi, lofty platforms of two stories, either set on wheels and drawn by black bullocks or crowds of shouting men, or carried by poles on men's shoulders. upon the first floor of these great floats is usually a company of dancers, or mummers, who dance, attitudinize, or make faces for the amusement of the crowds that gather along their route; while up above, an effigy of some hero in japanese history, or the figure of some animal or monster, looks down unmoved upon the absurdities below. each dashi is attended, not only by the men who draw it, but by companies of others in some uniform costume; and sometimes graceful professional[276] dancing-girls are hired to march in the matsuri procession, or to dance upon the lofty dashi. at the time of the festivities which accompanied the promulgation of the constitution, three days of jollification were held in tokyo, days of such universal fun and frolic that it will be known among the common people, to all succeeding generations, as the "emperor's big matsuri." every quarter of the city vied with every other in the production of gorgeous dashi, and the streets were gay with every conceivable variety of decoration, from the little red-and-white paper lanterns, that even the poorest hung before their houses, to the great evergreen arches, set with electric lights, with which the great business streets were spanned thickly from end to end. an evening walk through one of these thoroughfares was a sight to be remembered for a lifetime. the magnificent dashi represented all manner of quaint conceits. a great bivalve drawn by yelling crowds—which halted occasionally—opened and displayed between its shells a group of beautifully dressed girls, who danced one of the pantomimic dances of the country, accompanied by the twanging[277] melodies of the samisen. then slowly the great shell closed, once more the shouting crowds seized hold of the straining ropes, and the great bivalve with its fair freight was drawn slowly along through the gayly illuminated streets. jimmu tenno and other heroes of japanese legend or history, each upon its lofty platform, a white elephant, and countless other subjects were represented in the festival cars sent forth by all the districts of the city to celebrate the great event.

upon such festival occasions the shopkeeper does not put up his shutters and leave his place of business, but the open shop-fronts add much to the gay appearance of the street. there are no signs of business about, but the floor of the shop is covered with bright-red blankets; magnificent gilded screens form an imposing background to the little room; and seated on the floor are the shopkeeper, his family, and guests, eating, drinking tea, and smoking, as cosily as if all the world and his wife were not gazing upon the gay and homelike interior. sometimes companies of dancers, or other entertainments furnished by the wealthier shopkeepers, will[278] attract gaping crowds, who watch and block the street until the advance guard of some approaching dashi scatters them for a moment.

in japan, as in other parts of the world, the country people are rather looked down upon by the dwellers in the city for their slowness of intellect, dowdiness of dress, and boorishness of manners; while the country people make fun of the fads and fashions of the city, and rejoice that they are not themselves the slaves of novelty, and especially of the foreign innovations that play so prominent a part in japanese city life to-day. "the frog in the well knows not the great ocean," is the snub with which the japanese cockney sets down farmer rice-field's expressions of opinion; while the conservative countryman laughs at the foreign affectations of the tokyo man, and returns to his village with tales of the cookery of the capital: so extravagant is it that sugar is used in everything; it is even rumored that the tokyoites put sugar in their tea.

but while the country laughs and wonders at the city, nevertheless, in japan as elsewhere, there is a constant crowding of[279] the young life of the country into the livelier and more entertaining city. tokyo especially is the goal of every young countryman's ambition, and thither he goes to seek his fortune, finding, alas! too often, only the hard lot of the jinrikisha man, instead of the wealth and power that his country dreams had shown him.

the lower class women of the cities are in many respects like their sisters of the rural districts, except that they have less freedom than the country women in what the economists call "direct production." the wells and water tanks that stand at convenient distances along the streets of tokyo are frequently surrounded by crowds of women, drawing water, washing rice, and chattering merrily over their occupations. they meet and exchange ideas freely with each other and with the men, but they have not the diversity of labor that country life affords, confining themselves more closely to indoor and domestic work, and leaving the bread-winning more entirely to the men.

there are, however, occupations in the city for women, by which they may support themselves or their families. a good hair-dresser [280]may make a handsome living; indeed, she does so well that it is proverbial among the japanese that a hair-dresser's husband has nothing to do. though professional tailors are mostly men, many women earn a small pittance in taking in sewing and in giving sewing lessons; and as instructors in the ceremonial tea, etiquette, music, painting, and flower arrangement, many women of the old school are able to earn an independence, though none of these occupations are confined to the women alone.

the business of hotel-keeping we have referred to in a previous chapter, and it is a well-known fact that unless a hotel-keeper has a capable wife, his business will not succeed. at present, all over tokyo, small restaurants, where food is served in the foreign style, are springing up, and these are usually conducted by a man and his wife who have at some time served as cook and waitress in a foreign family, and who conduct the business c?operatively and on terms of good-fellowship and equality. in these little eating-houses, where a well-cooked foreign dinner of from three to six courses is served for the moderate sum of[281] thirty or forty cents, the man usually does the cooking, the woman the serving and handling of the money, until the time arrives when the profits of the business are sufficient to justify the hiring of more help. when this time comes, the labor is redistributed, the woman frequently taking upon herself the reception of the guests and the keeping of the accounts, while the hired help waits on the tables.

one important calling, in the eyes of many persons, especially those of the lower classes, is that of fortune-telling; and these guides in all matters of life, both great and small, are to be found in every section of the city. they are consulted on every important step by believing ones of all classes. an impending marriage, an illness, the loss of any valuable article, a journey about to be taken,—these are all subjects for the fortune-teller. he tells the right day of marriage, and says whether the fates of the two parties will combine well; gives clues to the causes of sudden illness, and information as to what has become of lost articles, and whether they will be recovered or not. warned thus by the fortune-teller against evils that may[282] happen, many ingenious expedients are resorted to, to avoid the ill foretold.

a man and his family were about to move from their residence to another part of the city. they sent to know if the fates were propitious to the change for all the family. the day and year of birth of each was told, and then the fortune-teller hunted up the various signs, and sent word that the direction of the new home was excellent for the good luck of the family as a whole, and the move a good one for each member of it except one of the sons; the next year the same move would be bad for the father. as the family could not wait two years before moving, it was decided that the change of residence should be made at once, but that the son should live with his uncle until the next year. the uncle's home was, however, inconveniently remote, and so the young man stayed as a visitor at his father's house for the remaining months of the year, after which he became once more a member of the household. thus the inconvenience and the evil were both avoided.[*]

another story comes to my mind now of a dear old lady, the go inkyo sama of a[283] house of high rank, who late in life came to tokyo to live with her brother and his young and somewhat foreignized wife. the brother himself, while not a christian, had little belief in the old superstitions of his people; his wife was a professing christian. soon after the old lady's arrival in tokyo, her sister-in-law fell ill, and before she had recovered her strength the children, one after another, came down with various diseases, which, though in no case fatal, kept the family in a state of anxiety for more than a year. the old lady was quite sure that there was some witchcraft or art-magic at work among her dear ones, and, after consulting the servants (for she knew that she could expect no sympathy in her plans from either her brother or his wife), she betook herself to a fortune-teller to discover through his means the causes of the illness in the family. the fortune-teller revealed to her the fact that two occult forces were at work bringing evil upon the house. one was the evil spirit of a spring or well that had been choked with stones, or otherwise obstructed in its flow, and that chose this way of bringing its afflictions to the attention of mortals.[284] the other was the spirit of a horse that had once belonged in the family, and that after death revenged itself upon its former masters for the hard service wherewith it had been made to serve. the only way in which these two powers could be appeased would be by finding the well, and removing the obstructions that choked it, and by erecting an image of the horse and offering to it cakes and other meat-offerings. the fortune-teller hinted, moreover, that for a consideration he might be able to afford material aid in the search for the well.

at this information go inkyo sama was much perturbed, for further aid for her afflicted family seemed to require the use of money, and of that commodity she had very little, being mainly dependent upon her brother for support. she returned to her home and consulted the servants upon the matter; but though they quite agreed with her that something should be done, they had little capital to invest in the enterprises suggested by the fortune-teller. at last, the old lady went to her brother, but he only laughed at her well-meant attempts to help his family, and refused to[285] give her money for such a purpose. she retired discouraged, but, urged by the servants, she decided to make a last appeal, this time to her sister-in-law, who must surely be moved by the evil that was threatening herself and her children. taking some of the head servants with her, she went to her sister and presented the case. this was her last resort, and she clung to her forlorn hope longer than many would have done, the servants adding their arguments to her impassioned appeals, only to find out after all that the steadfast sister could not be moved, and that she would not propitiate the horse's spirit, or allow money to be used for such a purpose. she gave it up then, and sat down to await the fate of her doomed house, doubtless wondering much and sighing often over the foolish skepticism of her near relatives, and wishing that the rationalistic tendencies of the time would take a less dangerous form than the neglecting of the plainest precautions for life and health. the fate has not yet come, and now at last go inkyo sama seems to have resigned herself to the belief that it has been averted from the heads of the dear ones by a power unknown to the fortune-teller.

[286]

beside these callings, there are other employments which are not regarded as wholly respectable by either japanese or foreigners. the géisha ya, or establishments where dancing-girls are trained, and let out by the day or evening to tea-houses or private parties, are usually managed by women. at these establishments little girls are taken, sometimes by contract with their parents, sometimes adopted by the proprietors of the house, and from very early youth are trained not only in the art of dancing, but are taught singing and samisen-playing, all the etiquette of serving and entertaining guests, and whatever else goes to make a girl charming to the opposite sex. when thoroughly taught, they form a valuable investment, and well repay the labor spent upon them, for a popular géisha commands a good price everywhere, and has her time overcrowded with engagements. a japanese entertainment is hardly regarded as complete without géishas in attendance, and their dancing, music, and graceful service at supper form a charming addition to an evening of enjoyment at a tea-house. it is these géishas, too, who at matsuri are hired to[287] march in quaint uniforms in the procession, or, borne aloft on great dashi, dance for the benefit of the admiring crowds.

the japanese dances are charmingly graceful and modest; the swaying of the body and limbs, the artistic management of the flowing draperies, the variety of themes and costumes of the different dances, all go to make an entertainment by géishas one of the pleasantest of japanese enjoyments. sometimes, in scarlet and yellow robes, the dainty maidens imitate, with their supple bodies, the dance of the maple leaves as they are driven hither and thither in the autumn wind; sometimes, with tucked-up kimonos and jaunty red petticoats, they play the part of little country girls carrying their eggs to market in the neighboring village. again, clad in armor, they simulate the warlike gestures and martial stamp of some of the old-time heroes; or, with whitened faces and hoary locks, they perform with rake and broom the dance of the good old man and old woman who play so prominent a part in japanese pictures. and then, when the dance is over, and all are bewitched with their grace and beauty, they descend to[288] the supper-room and ply their temporary employers with the saké bottle, laughing and jesting the while, until there is little wonder if the young men at the entertainment drink more than is good for them, and leave the tea-house at last thoroughly tipsy, and enslaved by the bright eyes and merry wits of some of the hebes who have beguiled them through the evening.

the géishas unfortunately, though fair, are frail. in their system of education, manners stand higher than morals, and many a géisha gladly leaves the dancing in the tea-houses to become the concubine of some wealthy japanese or foreigner, thinking none the worse of herself for such a business arrangement, and going cheerfully back to her regular work, should her contract be unexpectedly ended. the géisha is not necessarily bad, but there is in her life much temptation to evil, and little stimulus to do right, so that, where one lives blameless, many go wrong, and drop below the margin of respectability altogether. yet so fascinating, bright, and lively are these géishas that many of them have been taken by men of good position as wives, and are now the heads of[289] the most respectable homes. without true education or morals, but trained thoroughly in all the arts and accomplishments that please,—witty, quick at repartee, pretty, and always well dressed,—the géisha has proved a formidable rival for the demure, quiet maiden of good family, who can only give her husband an unsullied name, silent obedience, and faithful service all her life. the freedom of the present age, as shown in the chapter on "marriage and divorce," and as seen in the choice of such wives, has presented this great problem to the thinking women of japan. if the wives of the leaders in japan are to come from among such a class of women, something must be done, and done quickly, for the sake of the future of japan; either to raise the standards of the men in regard to women, or to change the old system of education for girls. a liberal education, and more freedom in early life for women, has been suggested, and is now being tried, but the problem of the géisha and her fascination is a deep one in japan.

below the géisha in respectability stands the joro, or licensed prostitute. every[290] city in japan has its disreputable quarter, where the various joroya, or licensed houses of prostitution, are situated. the supervision that the government exercises over these places is extremely rigid; the effort is made, by licensing and regulating them, to minimize the evils that must flow from them. the proprietors of the joroya do everything in their power to make their houses, grounds, and employees attractive, and, to the unsuspecting foreigner, this portion of the city seems often the pleasantest and most respectable. a joro need never be taken for a respectable woman, for her dress is distinctive, and a stay of a short time in japan is long enough to teach even the most obtuse that the obi, or sash, tied in front instead of behind, is one of the badges of shame. but though the occupation of the joro is altogether disreputable,—though the prostitute quarter is the spot to which the police turn for information in regard to criminals and law-breakers, a sort of a trap into which, sooner or later, the offender against the law is sure to fall,—japanese public opinion, though recognizing the evil as a great one, does not look upon the professional prostitute [291]with the loathing which she inspires in christian countries. the reason for this lies, not solely in the lower moral standards although it is true that sins of this character are regarded much more leniently in japan than in england or america. the reason lies very largely in the fact that these women are seldom free agents. many of them are virtually slaves, sold in childhood to the keepers of the houses in which they work, and trained, amid the surroundings of the joroya, for the life which is the only life they have ever known. a few may have sacrificed themselves freely but reluctantly for those whom they love, and by their revolting slavery may be earning the means to keep their dear ones from starvation or disgrace. many are the japanese romances that are woven about the virtuous joro, who is eventually rewarded by finding, even in the joroya, a lover who is willing to raise her again to a life of respectability, and make her a happy wife and the mother of children. such stories must necessarily lower the standard of morals in regard to chastity, but in a country in which innocent romance has little room for development, the imagination [292]must find its materials where it can. these joroya give employment to thousands of women throughout the country, but in few cases do the women seek that employment, and more openings in respectable directions, together with a change in public opinion securing to every woman the right to her own person, would tend to diminish the number of victims that these institutions yearly draw into their devouring current.

innocent and reputable amusements are many and varied in the cities. we have already mentioned incidentally the theatre as one of the favorite diversions of the people; and though it has never been regarded as a very refined amusement, it has done and is doing much for the education of the lower classes in the history and spirit of former times. regular plays were never performed in the presence of the emperor and his court, or the shogun and his nobles, but the no dance was the only dramatic amusement of the nobility. this no is an ancient japanese theatrical performance, more, perhaps, like the greek drama than anything in our modern life. all the movements of the actors are measured [293]and conventionalized, speech is a poetical recitative, the costumes are stiff and antique, masks are much used, and a chorus seated upon the stage chants audible comments upon the various situations. this alone, the most ancient and classical of japanese theatrical performances, is considered worthy of the attention of the emperor and the nobility, and takes the place with them of the more vulgar and realistic plays which delight common people.

the regular theatre preserves in many ways the life and costumes of old japan, and the details of dress and scenery are most carefully studied. the actors are usually men, though there are "women theatres" in which all the parts are performed by women. in no case are the r?les taken by both sexes upon one stage. as the performances last all day, from ten or eleven in the forenoon until eight or nine in the evening, going to the theatre means much more than a few hours of entertainment after the day's work is over. a lunch and dinner, with innumerable light edibles between, go to make up the usual bill of fare for a day at the play, and tea-houses in the neighborhood of the theatre provide the[294] necessary meals, a room to take them in, a resting-place between the acts, and whatever tea, cakes, and other refreshments may be ordered. these latter eatables are served by the attendants of the tea-house in the theatre boxes while the play is in progress, and the playgoers eat and smoke all day long through roaring farce or goriest tragedy.

similar to the theatre in many ways are the public halls, where professional story-tellers, the hanashika, night after night, relate long stories to crowded audiences, as powerfully and vividly as the best trained elocutionist. each gesture, and each modulation of the voice, is studied as carefully as are those of the actors. many charming tales are told of old japan, and even western stories have found their way to these assemblies. a long story is often continued from night to night until finished. unfortunately, the class of people who patronize these places is low, and the moral tone of some of the stories is pitched accordingly; but the best of the story-tellers—those who have talent and reputation—are often invited to come to entertainments given at private houses, to amuse[295] a large company by their eloquence or mimicry.

this is a very favorite entertainment, and the hanashika has so perfected the art of imitation that he can change in a moment from the tones of a child to those of an old woman. solemn and sad subjects are touched upon, as well as merry and bright things, and he never fails to make his audience weep or laugh, according to his theme, and well merits the applause he always receives at the end.

the hanami, or picnic to famous places to view certain flowers as they bloom in their season, though not belonging strictly to city life, forms one of the greatest of the pleasures of city people. the river sumida, on which tokyo is situated, has lining its eastern shore for some miles the famous cherry-trees of japan, with their large, double pink blossoms, and when, in april and may, these flowers are in their perfection, great crowds of sightseers flock to mukojima to enjoy the blossoms under the trees. the river is crowded with picnic parties in boats. every tea-house along the banks is full of guests, and the little stalls and resting-places on the way find a[296] quick sale for fruit, confectionery, and light lunches. saké is often too freely imbibed by the merrymakers, whose flushed faces show, when returning homeward, how their day was spent. there is much quiet enjoyment, too, of the lovely blossoms, the broad, calm river, and the gayly dressed crowds. hundreds and thousands of visitors crowd to the suburban places about tokyo,—to uyéno park for its cherry and peach blossoms, kaméido for the plum and wistaria, oji for its famous maple-trees, and many others, each noted for some special beauty. dango zaka has its own peculiar attraction, the famous chrysanthemum dolls. these ingenious figures are arranged so as to form tableaux,—scenes from history or fiction well known to all the people. they are of life size, and the faces, hands, and feet are made of some composition, and closely resemble life in every detail. but the curious thing in these tableaux is that the scenery, whether it be the representation of a waterfall, rocks, or bushes, the animals, and the dresses of the figures are made entirely of chrysanthemum twigs, leaves, and flowers, not cut and woven in, as at the first glance they[297] seem to be,—so closely are the leaves and flowers bound together to make the flat surface of different objects,—but alive and growing on the plants. it is impossible to tell where the roots and stems are hidden, for nothing is visible but (for example) the white spray and greenish shadows of a waterfall, or the parti-colored figures in a young girl's dress. but, should it be the visitor's good fortune to watch the repairing of one of these lifelike images, he will find that the entire body is a frame woven of split bamboo, within which the plants are placed, their roots packed in damp earth and bound about with straw, while their leaves and flowers are pulled through the basket frame and woven into whatsoever pattern the artistic eye and skillful fingers of the gardener may select. a roof of matting shields each group from the sun by day, and a slight sprinkling every night serves to keep the plants fresh for nearly a month, and the flowers continue their blooming during that time, as calmly as if in perfectly natural positions. each of the gardeners of the neighborhood has his own little show, containing several tableaux, the entrance to which is guarded[298] by an officious gate-keeper, who shouts out the merits of his particular groups of figures, and forces his show-bills upon the passer-by, in the hope of securing the two sen admission fee which is required for each exhibit.

and so, amid the shopping, the festivals, the amusements of the great cities, the women find their lives varied in many ways. their holidays from home duties are spent amid these enjoyments; and if they have not the out-of-door employments, the long walks up the mountains, the days spent in tea-picking, in harvesting, in all the varied work that comes to the country woman, the dwellers in the city have no lack of sights and sounds to amuse and interest them, and would not often care to exchange their lot for the freer and hardier life of the rustic.

footnotes:

[42] o miagé must be given, not only on the return from an evening of pleasure, but also on the return from a journey or pleasure trip of any kind. as a rule, the longer the absence, the finer and more costly must be the presents given on returning.

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